


Sometime Around Midnight

by trinkette



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:23:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinkette/pseuds/trinkette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky needs Steve's help the night before he ships out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometime Around Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from a song by The Airborne Toxic Event, which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m53cWa-CdUg)

The 107th was flying out the next morning and settled on having one more get together at Osborne’s dance hall, Brooklyn’s best. It just so happened to be located in the same neighborhood Bucky Barnes lived in. Bucky wasn’t planning on going out that night until Stan O’Brien had rung up at his apartment. He couldn’t say no to the kid. He reminded Bucky of his best friend, Steve, because they were both so enthusiastic about the war effort to kick Nazi butt. Whereas Stan was able to enlist, Steve had a laundry list of ailments that prevented him from joining the Army. 

Bucky sat at the bar alone. He was lost in his drink and his thoughts when Stan tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Are you ok, James?” 

No matter how many times Bucky told Stan to call him by his nickname, Stan never did. Bucky assumed Stan wanted to be respectful but it still felt weird. No one called him James except for his parents.

“I’m fine…just thinkin’. It’s really hit me that this time tomorrow we won’t be here.”

Bucky took another sip of his drink, continuing to stare off into the distance at the sea of bodies dancing and twirling. Bucky met his ex-girlfriend Ruth at this very same place. He was thinking of the night they broke up. He was thinking of Steve and of his folks and even the bars and restaurants he was going to miss. He was going to miss everything about Brooklyn. 

“I wonder if the girls in England are gonna to be this much fun,” Stan says after a while. 

“I don’t think we’ll be doing much socializing and dancin’ over there,” Bucky remarked, a tinge of sadness evident in his voice. 

“I know, I know. Hope I can understand them. Jasper Perkins said across the pond they call fries ‘chips’ and cookies ‘biscuits’.”

“Well, I’m sure if we do get to meet any dames, they’ll give you a vocabulary lesson,” Bucky replied before elbowing Stan in the arm. Then he stood up. 

“You know what, Stan? I’m gonna head out. Don’t feel much like dancin’, but you have a good time.” 

Stan gave Bucky a salute. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Night, O’Brien.”

\---

Bucky exited the dance hall and stepped into the deserted street. It was unusually warm for April so he took off his uniform jacket and threw it over his arm. 

“Barnes!” he heard a man’s voice shout. “Barnes! You betta get back here.”

Bucky turned around to see who it is. It was a large man around his age who looked disgruntled. Bucky noticed his red hair and recognized the man as Gus Jones, Ruth’s older brother. What could he want? 

“Evenin’, Gus,” Bucky said cordially. 

“I ain’t got time for pleasantries, Barnes. What’s all this about you breakin’ things off with Ruth?”

Bucky broke up with Ruth a week before. The last thing on Bucky’s mind was marriage so he didn’t want Ruth to have false hope. He figured breaking up was the right thing to do so Ruth could live her life while Bucky was away. She could meet another guy instead of pining over Bucky’s photograph and waiting for a letter. And what if he didn’t make it back alive? Bucky explained all this to Gus. Her brother obviously didn’t see it that way because before Bucky knew it Gus’s fist flew at his right cheek. 

“I know guys like you, Barnes. You charm dames and once you get ‘em you leave ‘em for the next pretty face. Isn’t that right, Bucko?” 

“It’s Bucky,” he began to say. “And are you sure you aren’t describing guys such as yourself?” 

That made Gus furious. He swung his arm and hit Bucky’s nose. 

“Why aren’t ya fightin’ back?” Gus spat. “Some soldier you are.” 

The truth was Bucky felt terrible about how he ended things with Ruth. She ran away from the park bench crying. That’s why he let Gus punch him. Bucky felt he deserved it. 

Bucky had saved his best friend Steve from many a bully over the years, but now he finally understood how it felt to be in Steve’s shoes as another punch makes contact with his face. Gus stopped for a few minutes to trick Bucky into thinking he was done, but his large fist repeatedly punched Bucky in his face. Gus didn’t touch him anywhere else. Bucky felt blood trickling down from his nose, but that didn’t stop Gus from giving Bucky one last punch in his mouth. 

“There. Now no dame in England’s gonna look at you,” Gus sneered, obviously proud of himself because his grin stretched from ear to ear. 

“Don’t you understand? I was only trying to protect her!” Bucky tried to yell but Gus was already up the street. 

Bucky placed a finger on his lip. It was covered in blood and would definitely be swollen soon. Bucky found a tissue inside his pocket and pinched his nose to stop the bleeding. He was grateful Gus didn’t manage to break it. 

After a while Bucky regained his composure. He spit blood and shook his head. Of all nights for Gus to find him! He couldn’t go home looking like this. His mother would be upset and his dad would be angry that he, ‘Didn’t put that Jones kid in his place.’ 

Suddenly an idea popped into Bucky’s head. Steve Rogers. His best friend could help clean him up, just like Bucky did for him. 

Bucky ran as fast as he could to Steve’s apartment. Once he arrived he looked at his wrist watch. It was 10 o’clock. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief because he knew Steve was still up. Bucky waited a few minutes to catch his breath before ringing the bell. Steve lived above a little bar named McFayden's. Bucky was just about to give up waiting and check to see if Steve was at the bar when the door opened. 

“Bucky. Hey,” Steve said cheerfully. Steve did not expect to see his best friend standing there. He promised Bucky he would come over for breakfast with Bucky’s family, but seeing him now made Steve question whether or not he was drunk or in trouble. Or both. Steve looked Bucky over and saw Bucky’s cheek was bruised and that he had dried blood all over his face. "What happened to you?”

“I got into a fight,” Bucky answered bluntly. He ran his fingers through his hair, a bit embarrassed that he needed help. Bucky wasn’t the one who got into fights. Steve was. Bucky finished them. 

“So that’s why you’re here. You want me to play nurse,” Steve chuckled. 

“Your powers of observation astonish me,” Bucky retorted. 

“Ain’t got a nurse’s uniform, though.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. It was the first time he’s smiled all night. 

“You’re a punk.”

“And you’re a jerk, gettin’ into a fight hours before shippin’ out. What’ll your folks think?” Steve said as he closed the door behind him.

Bucky crushed his eyes tight and sighed. “Can you please drop this and help me clean up?”

“Yeah. C’mon. I have some stuff in the kit you left here last time I was in one of these situations.”

“That was last week,” Bucky interjected. 

“Was it?” Steve let out another chuckle. “And do you see any bruises on my face and knuckles? You’re a good nurse, Buck.” 

Bucky smiled again. “Hope you’re just as good.”

Steve examined Bucky’s face. “Swollen lip. Bloody nose. Bruised cheek. This is nothing,” he replied wryly while counting on his fingers. 

Steve opened the door and let Bucky inside first. Bucky took a seat in the kitchen because that was where Steve kept all his medical supplies. Steve walked into the kitchen and saw his patient sitting up straight and ready to feel some stinging.

Steve filled a basin with warm water before fetching a wash cloth from a cupboard along with the medical kit. Gently, he dabbed the cloth over Bucky’s upper lip and nose to get rid of the dried blood. Being so close to Bucky made Steve smell alcohol on his breath. Steve felt s a bit hurt. It was the night before Bucky shipped out to England, and instead of spending time with him (or his family, for that matter), Bucky had spent it getting drunk. 

Bucky couldn’t look away from Steve, as though their role reversal froze him in his seat, and he thought the answer to every question turning around in his brain could be found somewhere inside Steve’s blue eyes. Steve, of course, took notice of Bucky’s intense gaze and blushed. 

“So what did this guy look like?” Steve asked as he squeezed excess water from the wash cloth. “Maybe he beat me up.”

“You don’t know him,” Bucky said quickly. 

Steve scoffed. He could tell Bucky wanted to drop the subject altogether, but Steve had no intention of doing so. He had to know who had the audacity to beat up his best friend. 

“Bucky, I’ve been in many fights. You of all people should know that.”

“Boy, do I ever.”

“You also know you haven’t come galloping in on your white horse to rescue me every time. So tell me, who was it?” Steve questioned. 

“Aw hell, it was Ruth’s brother, Gus,” Bucky sighed. “He thinks I’m some kinda women chaser and left her for someone else. Come on, Steve, you know me better than anyone. Have I ever done that? No!” 

Steve brought the cloth to Bucky’s bottom lip. Bucky winced and Steve quickly apologized. 

“You know I believe you, Buck. No need to get defensive. You finished it, right?” 

Bucky diverted his eyes away from Steve and looked down at his lap, giving himself away. 

“You let him, didn’t you? Oh Buck, I can’t believe this.”

“Well you betta believe it and get me some ice,” Bucky snapped. 

Steve remembered his ice box was empty. “Hold on a sec. Lemme go down and ask McFayden for some.”

“Alright.”

Steve jolted out of the kitchen and pranced towards the door, forgetting all about putting a bandage on Bucky’s bruised cheek. 

Steve had lived his life acting on impulses, except when it came to the beautiful boy who was sitting in his kitchen with a fat lip. All Steve could think about as he patted the wash cloth around Bucky’s face was kissing his bruises, and even more so his lips, which were nicely plump thanks to Gus Jones.  
As he makes his way down the stairs, Steve felt little woozy, thinking that even rustled up Bucky was still beautiful. But it still bothered Steve that Bucky didn’t want to spend his last night with him. 

And then Steve remembered the sketchbook.

\---

Once Bucky heard the apartment door shut he got up and sat down on Steve’s couch. Bucky found the couch very comfortable. He had spent many hours sitting there while Steve sat next to his feet on the floor. Bucky would watch Steve draw, mesmerized by the way Steve glided his pencil across the page. In fact, Bucky had bought Steve his first sketchbook because he couldn’t stand seeing someone so talented draw on napkins and newspaper corners. He even convinced Steve to submit some of his drawings to the local newspaper. Bucky was proud to tell people that his best friend was a published artist, even if it was only a few political cartoons.

Bucky noticed that Steve left his sketchbook on a couch cushion. Without thinking he was invading Steve’s privacy, Bucky picked it up and began flipping through it. Most of the drawings in the beginning of the book were political cartoons and sketches of the Brooklyn Bridge, but as Bucky continued the drawings changed.  
Steve had sketched a lot of hands and full bodies. The sketches were of the male form so Bucky initially thought Steve was using his own body as a reference. When he turned the pages Bucky noticed he had taken to drawing one man. The jaw line was more refined, and it became clear to Bucky that these drawings were of him. Bucky felt like he was staring at his reflection. Steve perfectly captured Bucky’s smile, from the curve of his lips to the wrinkles that formed around his eyes. What was more impressive was the fact that Bucky never posed for Steve. He drew these from memory. 

Bucky kept turning the pages. 

Between sketches of Bucky’s face were drawings of Bucky with a male figure who was clearly Steve. His unruly bangs were the dead giveaway. Steve had his arm around Bucky’s neck and his lips against his temple in one. In another they were kissing while Steve sat in Bucky’s lap. 

He kept turning the pages. 

Bucky at the park. Bucky at the beach. Another of the two of them embracing. Bucky lying across a bed, a rumpled sheet wrapped around his shirtless torso. Bucky’s lingered on this particular drawing because when his eyes darted down he saw that Steve erased some words. All he could make out was “…my best guy.”  
The realization that Steve was in love with Bucky didn’t hit him like a ton of bricks. It all made sense now. Steve kissed Bucky a few times before but Bucky always attributed it to alcohol. Then Bucky recalled how Steve would blush any time he caught him staring and how his dates with the girls Bucky fixed him up with never went anywhere.

Yes, Steve’s feelings were absolutely clear. 

Bucky wasn’t alarmed. He spent his whole life protecting Steve from bullies and taking care of him when he was sick. That included a few kisses here and there while they cuddled on Steve’s couch, all innocent. He set him up on dates and always gave him wonderful birthday presents. Hell, if Steve asked for the world Bucky would’ve given it to him. That’s how much he cared about his happiness.  
Bucky asked himself if he did it all because he loved Steve, too. He shook his head. Of course he loved Steve. Steve was honest and loyal and the best person Bucky had ever come across. Bucky went out of his way to make Steve feel special, that he was more than just a skinny kid with ailments. Maybe that’s why Steve had fallen for him, Bucky thought. Maybe that was why Bucky thought of Steve as he closed his eyes. Steve was special. He was, and always had been, Bucky’s. 

\---

Steve was filled with dread. He knew Bucky had seen the sketchbook. He had to. It was sitting on his couch for anyone to see, and he also knew Bucky’s curiosity would get the better of him. 

Steve pushed his thoughts away when he entered the bar. Cheery Pat McFayden liked Steve immensely. A lot of people in the neighborhood liked Steve. He had this way of charming people with his blazing blue eyes and sweet disposition. When Pat saw Steve he waved and asked what he wanted. Steve declined, asked for the ice, and then apologized for being in a hurry. 

All of Steve’s anxiety washed away when he opened his apartment door and saw Bucky asleep on the couch. He spotted his sketchbook on Bucky’s lap but he didn’t care anymore. Steve spent years trying to deny his feelings for Bucky, and when that became too difficult he expressed his feelings in other, more subtle ways, such as Bucky’s birthday presents, or in the way he would look happy and nod at the right times when Bucky spoke about his girlfriend. 

But the most intimate way Steve could convey his love was through his drawings, and now Bucky had seen them and had passed out afterwards. Steve didn’t know what to make of this obvious fact, but then he remembered the alcohol on Bucky’s breath and concluded that Bucky most likely didn’t realize the drawings were of him. After all, wouldn’t he have wanted to confront Steve about it? But no, there Bucky was looking peaceful as he slept. His large hands that Steve loved to draw were sprawled across the couch and his lips were slightly parted. Steve couldn’t look away for a few minutes. This was the most vulnerable he had ever seen Bucky, so Steve declared to himself that he needed to commit this moment to paper. 

Steve tiptoed into the kitchen to put the bag of ice cubes in his ice box. Carefully, he took his sketchbook off of Bucky’s lap and quickly began to draw. Occasionally Bucky let out a small sigh but he never moved. It was titillating drawing Bucky now that Steve didn’t have to be distracted by his lovely eyes, or rushed by Bucky saying something like, ‘Almost done, Picasso? I’m starving!’ 

As Steve continued drawing he thought about how happy he was on his thirteenth birthday. Bucky gave him his first sketchbook that year. Bucky loved Steve, he knew that, but unfortunately it wasn’t in the way Steve wanted. Steve wanted Bucky, he wanted to taste his skin and feel his naked body pressed against his as their lips moved in unison. But he couldn’t. His sketches would have to be enough. 

Once Steve finished he got up and walked towards the couch. He placed a kiss on top of Bucky’s head. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked groggily. 

“Go to sleep, Buck.”

“Do I look okay?”

Steve sniffled. “Not too shabby. Sleep.”

“Okay,” Bucky replied before shutting his eyes again.

Steve didn’t realize his eyes were full of tears until he entered his bedroom. 

\---

Bucky woke up sometime around midnight. It took him a minute to recognize Steve’s couch, and then he remembered everything that happened earlier. How Steve’s facial expression changed when he saw Bucky standing there all unkempt stood out to him. He probably thought Bucky came over to invite him out or to simply spend time with him in his apartment, drinking coffee while they swapped stories about the good times they shared. Bucky felt terrible that he didn’t consider all this sooner, not to mention the fact that he passed out on Steve’s couch. He wanted to apologize to Steve and make it up to him, but how could he when he was leaving in a few hours? Bucky’s eyes dashed to Steve’s sketchbook, giving him an idea. 

Bucky found his way to Steve’s bedroom in the dark. Steve was sleeping on his side, which delighted Bucky because it gave him enough room to crawl into bed with him. Steve felt the mattress move and woke from his dreamless sleep. 

“You could’a knocked.” 

Steve’s anxiety rose. He feared Bucky would come into his bedroom to discuss his sketchbook contents, and now that he was here all Steve wanted was to blink his eyes and have his friend disappear. It is all too much for Steve to handle, but he knew he couldn’t leave the tension between him and Bucky unresolved.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Bucky said softly. 

“How can I sleep with you blowin’ smoke in my ear,” Steve grumbled into his pillow. He wanted things to be fine between them when they say goodbye but it wasn’t the right time. Steve needed to collect himself and his thoughts. 

“What was that?” Bucky asked. 

Clearly agitated, Steve turned to look at his friend. “Look, Buck, it’s late and you’re drunk. Why don’t we just forget this and try to get some sleep?” 

“Drunk?” I’m not drunk!” Bucky shouted. Steve had seen him drunk before, so Bucky didn’t understand where this was coming from. “Why don’t you stop being so damn defensive and admit you’re really upset about me leaving.”

“Course I’m upset. I’m losing my best fri—”

“Which is why we gotta talk now,” Bucky interrupted, grabbing Steve’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s funny that you think I’m drunk when I’m seeing clearly for the first time in my life.”

Despite the warmth of Bucky’s hand and the smile playing on his lips, Steve gulped down the lump that formed in his throat. 

“Yeah? About what?”

“It was me. You dated the girls, but it was me you wanted all along,” Bucky said before leaning into Steve to kiss him. It was chaste, just like all the other kisses they’ve shared, and did the trick to stop Steve from fretting, at least for a moment.

“Buck--” Steve tried to protest when they broke away, but Bucky gave his hand another squeeze.

“It’s alright, “Bucky said reassuringly. “I guess I always knew…I just kept denyin’ it, and as a result I ignored my own feelings, too.”  
Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “Y-your feelings?”

“Steve, you know how much we’ve been through together. You took a jump and I would gladly make sure that I was there to cushion the fall, or prevent it entirely, whether it was a bully or an illness. I can’t sit here and deny that I thought about us together.” 

Steve wasn’t sure he heard Bucky right. He and Bucky together was all Steve ever wanted, and the fact that Bucky thought about it too made Steve’s face go scarlet. Was Bucky gay too or something else? Steve didn’t have an answer. The only thing Steve knew with certainty was that he loved his friend and wanted to make the most of the few hours they had left together. 

As if he could read Steve’s mind, Bucky kissed Steve again. Steve kissed back this time and Bucky wasted no time slipping his tongue inside Steve’s mouth. It felt amazing as both pairs of hands found their way into the others hair. Bucky explored Steve’s mouth and kissed with such intensity Steve couldn’t hold back his moans. Everything felt incredibly right until Bucky’s weight on top of Steve made it hard to breathe. Steve pulled away to catch his breath. 

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispered into the crook of Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky placed their foreheads together. If Steve only knew how many nights Bucky dreamt of his blue eyes and how badly he wanted to kiss his bruised knuckles every time he cleaned Steve up after a fight. If only Bucky worked everything out sooner. 

“Gosh, Stevie, I should’a known better. Guess I’m as stubborn as you,” he laughed, more to himself.

“No one is that stubborn. I have a mouth. I could'a used it to tell you how I felt but I didn’t. You were distracted by perfume and boobs since girls always liked you. I couldn’t compete with that.”

Bucky frowned. “Steve, c’mon, we’ve kissed plenty of times. If I didn’t enjoy it I wouldn’t have continued to find reasons to kiss you.” 

Steve lied back down. He finally had Bucky in his bed and he couldn’t think of anything to say. Bucky looked at him, waiting for Steve to deadpan a retort back about how his seemingly straight friend liked to kiss him, but he didn’t. He lightly traced his finger across the bruise on Bucky’s cheek instead. 

“Steve?” Bucky said to break the silence. 

“Mm?” Steve replied as he continued to stroke Bucky’s swollen cheek.

“I’m leavin’,” he began. “I can’t give you what you want because I can’t do that to you…leave you so soon afterwards. I remember Ruth’s face when I would leave, that pleading look in her eye tellin’ me to stay a bit longer. But this time I can’t stay, and it’s killin’ me.” 

Steve understood that Bucky didn’t want to hurt him. He also knew Bucky was terrified about what the war would have in store for him once he reached England. It explained why Bucky had been out drinking earlier. Steve reflected on all of this before speaking his next words. 

“Bucky, we don’t have to do anything. Take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You need the rest.”

“No, no, I wanna stay here with you, I just…I just don’t want you to think of this as a meaningless fuck.” 

“Never,” Steve said truthfully. 

He would have been satisfied with simply making out and then falling asleep in Bucky’s arms, but the night was going in a different direction from what Steve anticipated and he wanted it to continue. Steve decided that he wasn’t going to deny himself happiness any longer. He sat back up and kissed Bucky. Bucky parted his lips instantly to reignite their make-out session from earlier.

Steve’s let out a soft moan when Bucky started to move his palm up and down the fabric between Steve’s legs. He wanted Bucky to touch him desperately because he was getting harder by the second, but this was new for the both of them and they needed to find some sort of pace. He liked that Bucky was taking charge. He continued rubbing Steve on top of his pants until Steve teasingly bit down on Bucky’s bottom lip. It drew blood and they pulled away.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Steve apologized, given that he completely forgot all about Bucky’s split lip. 

“Are you kiddin’? That was hot,” Bucky announced as he wiped his lip with the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d bleed from kissin’ you, Steve Rogers.” 

“Well, things were getting pretty heavy. I’ve been a bad nurse though,” Steve said before placing his hand between Bucky’s legs. He was thrilled that his friend was just as hard. “Lie down, Barnes,” he ordered. 

Bucky licked his lips. “You’re bossy. Who’s the sergeant here anyway?” 

Steve flashed the most wicked smile Bucky had ever seen. “You are, but I’m afraid nurse’s orders take precedence in matters like these. You’re hard, Barnes. Do you want me to take care of this?”

Bucky did what he was told and lied back down on the bed. Steve’s words went straight to his dick. 

“Damn it, Steve, you betta touch me before I explode over here,” Bucky bellowed. His heart was pounding and his legs were tingling as he flashed Steve a smile back. 

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Steve beamed. 

Steve unbuttoned Bucky’s pants and quickly rolled them down his hips. Bucky’s groaned when Steve lightly ran his finger up and down his cock. He did it a few more times before wrapping his hand around to jerk Bucky off. 

“Oh… oh Steve… don’t stop,” Bucky moaned. 

Steve moved faster, and it wasn’t long before pre-come started to leak out. Steve took this as his cue to put the head inside his warm mouth. Steve spent much of his time swirling his tongue around before licking the sides of the shaft. His back arched, Bucky moaned and moaned for Steve, and the more Steve heard his name the more flustered he felt. It was utterly his favorite part of it all, being rewarded for making Bucky feel good by hearing his name sound so sexy in Bucky’s throaty voice. 

Steve took Bucky fully into his mouth. He moved his mouth up and down, sucking hard as saliva dripped down his chin. He stopped at one point to look up at Bucky. Brows furrowed and eyes closed tight, Bucky whimpered due to the lack of contact. Steve smirked and placed his mouth over Bucky’s cock again, paying special attention to the head by tracing his tongue back and forth across the slit. 

Suddenly, Bucky’s mouth opened wide to release a moan Steve was sure would wake McFayden in the adjacent apartment. 

“Stevie I’m, I’m…fuck,” he managed to say through a labored breath before collapsing on the bed. Steve swallowed Bucky’s load and gawked at him. There was a smile plastered across his face. 

Steve got up to open the window. He needed to feel the cool breeze against his face and take some deep breaths because his heart beat was racing. He cursed his asthmatic lungs for interrupting his time with Bucky. He also cursed the war for taking Bucky away. 

“Stevie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he stated in a rough whine. “I’m fine.” 

“Always the lion-heart. After you catch your breath, come back to bed and I’ll show you what else I can do with my tongue,” Bucky said playfully. 

Steve may have held less inhibitions when it came to making Bucky feel good, but he was a ball of insecurity when it came to his own body. Steve still couldn’t imagine Bucky finding him attractive; he was all limbs and bones, not to mention smaller in areas Bucky surpassed. Steve knew it was stupid to think this way when Bucky walked over and wrapped his arms around his waist, but Steve was stubborn and couldn’t kick his bad habits. Feeling inferior next to his best friend was just one of them. 

“Why are you still wearing these?” Bucky asked as his hands moved down Steve’s pants. He pulled at the elastic of Steve’s underpants as his lips found their way down Steve’s neck to suck at the tender flesh. 

Steve hissed when Bucky bit down. “Givin’ me something to remember you by?” 

Bucky stopped to laugh against Steve’s neck. “You could say that. I would be doing something else if your pants weren’t in the way.”

He didn’t even bother unbuttoning Steve’s pants; he simply yanked them down together with his underpants. Bucky placed his hands around Steve’s cock and stroked. Steve closed his eyes, rolled his head back against Bucky’s chest, and let out the faintest groan. 

Bucky’s breath was hot in Steve’s ear as he whispered, “Turn around for me, sweetheart. I wanna make you feel good.” 

Steve couldn’t say no to that so he turned. Bucky dropped to his knees and moved his tongue up and down. He’s acted quicker than Steve because he was no stranger to a blowjob and tried to do what he liked. He recalled one night when Ruth was feeling particularly spirited and played with Bucky’s balls while she sucked him off. Bucky mimicked her, cupping them and then give them a squeeze prior to putting Steve’s cock in his mouth. A shiver goes up Steve’s spine right before he stumbled against the window. 

“Bucky, oh fuck,” he yelled, holding onto the window sill to regain his balance. 

Steve’s mouth dropped open, allowing moans to escape from the back of his throat, while Bucky continued to suck and whirl his tongue around. Steve couldn’t believe how loud he was, but then again he couldn’t believe Bucky had his cock in his mouth. Steve heard Bucky making indescribable noises that only made Steve grip the window sill tighter. His knuckles white as snow, Steve started to feel a familiar warm sensation in his belly. 

Sensing that Steve was close, Bucky decided that he wanted to see the look on Steve’s face when he came. Bucky released Steve’s cock from his mouth and wrapped his hands around it, grabbing Steve’s right hand. Together they stroked Steve’s length in a steady rhythm. 

“I’m so close,” Steve cried out. “Faster…please…” 

After a few more strokes, Steve came all over their laced hands. Steve stood still breathing heavily, thinking if he were to die right now it wouldn’t be so bad. Bucky was fully aware of Steve’s ragged breathing and led Steve by the hand back to bed. He began to rub soothing circles across Steve’s back once they were seated. 

“Hey…Hey, you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay pal?” 

Steve coughed. “Okay.” 

Once Steve got his breathing under control, he turned his head to give Bucky a wide smile. He started to laugh because they were both sitting there wearing nothing but their shirts. Did they really just do that? 

“Learned a thing or two from Ruth I’m guessin’?”

Bucky breathed out a small laugh. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No, you just stroke and suck.”

Bucky’s eyes popped open before his whole body sprawled into a bit of laughter. Steve just sat there, thinking about how much he was going to miss hearing Bucky’s laughter. 

“I swear, Stevie, you are such a punk!” Bucky exclaimed, poking his friend in the ribs. “And for someone who never did this before, you’re alright.”

“Just alright, jerk?” Steve inquired, raising an eyebrow. 

“Okay, okay. You were absolutely fantastic.” Bucky said merrily. He tilted his head and kissed Steve deeply. Bucky Barnes may have kissed a few girls in his life but it was nothing compared to how kissing Steve felt. The feel of Steve’s chin stubble against his cheek, the smell of his aftershave, even the way his slender fingers felt as they grazed across his skin – they were all too much for Bucky to handle. 

They kissed for a while, not concerned about the time or that Bucky had to get home before his parents woke up and wondered where he was. Bucky’s farewell breakfast was all his mother talked about.

“Stay. I’ll tell your folks that you slept here. Not like they wouldn’t believe me. Please,” Steve pleaded after he broke contact with Bucky’s lips. He didn’t want to let Bucky go. They still had time. 

Bucky had no plans of going anywhere but he did have one concern. “What about my eye? I ain’t tellin’ my folks about Gus.”

“Then I’ll say I punched you because you kept pestering me to go out,” Steve heard how stupid his words sounded and immediately corrected himself. “Or you fell. That sounds more believable, huh?” 

Bucky grinned, lied down, and grabbed Steve’s hand to pull him down on top of him. Steve rested the side of his face against Bucky’s broad chest so he could listen to his heart beat. 

“You oughta write to me, send me a drawing every now and then.” Bucky said, running his fingers up and down Steve’s arm.

“You got it, Buck.” 

Steve started to twirl Bucky’s dog tags around his finger before placing a kiss on top of them. Bucky noticed and smiled; he didn’t think such a small action could make his heart flutter. He pushed Steve’s bangs aside to kiss his sweaty forehead. Steve sighed contentedly and snuggled up closer. 

“How does it feel knowin’ your best friend is gonna come back home a hero?” Bucky asked.

Steve lifted his head to gaze into Bucky’s eyes. He was alarmed when he saw the skin around Bucky’s left eye had indeed turned purple. He remembered the bag of ice McFayden gave him and decided that he would get it after answering Bucky’s question. He wanted to say something perfect, something that Bucky could imprint on his heart and come back to any time he was feeling low.

Steve didn’t have to think long for an answer. 

“It feels wonderful,” Steve smiled and sealed his words with a kiss.


End file.
